


Circus Acts, Dim Lights, and Fever Dreams

by AynnieBunnie



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Circus, Emotional Sex, Emotions, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Porn With Plot, circus performer Dream, dream is just dream, george is kinda emotiony, lightly described but not too graphic, some angst too but very little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:21:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28354608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AynnieBunnie/pseuds/AynnieBunnie
Summary: “You see, my friends,” the ringmaster said calmly, yet with great fervor, “It wasn’t long ago that all of this,” he gestured around the tent, “Was a simple idea in the mind of an excited child. That’s where it always starts, isn’t it? ...So, let’s take you back, act by act, until the beginning when you’ll meet the dream who started it all."---George attends the circus that's in town, one of the only big events in his small town where nothing ever happens, and gets pulled into an act by a mysterious masked performer, Dream. Later that night, Dream helps him home and ends up staying the night.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 143





	Circus Acts, Dim Lights, and Fever Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Writing this took me a while and it definitely helped get a lot of things off my mind. It was really just a way for me to vent, but I hope you enjoy reading it anyways
> 
> Please read the tags, I did my best to include everything that applied. This is only about their personas, not the actual people, and, if Dream or George ever say they're uncomfortable with content like this being written about them, I'll take it down immediately. Also, please keep this within the fandom

Slipping in at the last possible second, George closed the door behind him and quickly made his way to an empty seat in the far back. Even in the frosty weather that had everyone else wrapped in puffy coats, his short dash to make sure he got there on time had left him panting, sweaty, and exhilarated. He glanced around; the warm interior of the tent was a dullish grey to his eyes in the low lighting, the string lights hanging from the rafters were most likely a fire hazard, and the seating area was packed full of excited spectators.

_I’m not surprised,_ he thought briefly, brushing a stray leaf off his coat, _It’s not often that anything interesting happens in this dreary town._ George had to admit, however, that he didn’t mind the boring routine he plodded through everyday without because, though it held little spontaneity, it was stable which was more than he could ask for.

A loud cheer suddenly rose up as the ringmaster was welcomed onstage and bowed deeply to the awaiting audience. His dress was made up of a suit with faint detailing that glittered under the light and caught George’s attention, _Probably red and gold. Classic._ It took a moment for the crowd to settle and the man called out to them, apparently introducing the group by beginning to tell a story.

“You see, my friends,” he said calmly, yet with great fervor, “It wasn’t long ago that all of this,” he gestured around the tent, “Was a simple idea in the mind of an excited child. That’s where it always starts, isn’t it? But then, I managed to find some extraordinary people and suddenly the dream I started with wasn’t only a dream.”

Leaning forwards in his seat, George propped his elbows on his knees and placed his face in his hands, unable to deny how intrigued he was. Maybe it was just the eerily flickering lighting that was drawing him in or how, even in his distorted greyish vision, the man somehow managed to radiate so much color.

“So, let’s take you back, act by act, until the beginning when you’ll meet the dream who started it all.”

Quizzically cocking his head to the side in confusion, he was both confused and even more enraptured. _Who started it all?_ George thought, _This dream of his is a person or what? Weird…_ he shrugged it off, _Or just bad grammar._

Clapping his hands twice, the ringmaster twirled and opened his arms upwards, “Fantasy and Nightmare everyone!”

Signalled by the call of her name, Nightmare, and the loud cheers erupting from the audience, a girl in elegant black tights tumbled down from the rafters, gracefully spinning through the air. At the same time, a boy dressed in all white, Fantasy presumably, leapt out onto the floor and somersaulted towards the girl, catching her gently in his arms right before she hit the ground.

They were both quite young, most likely siblings, and also unbelievably flexible, bending over themselves in ways that made George think he needed to pinch himself. Pushing off each other and using props like the trapeze or the beam, the pair of evidently acrobats managed to keep the crowd solely focused on their incredible performance.

Quite a couple times, George’s heart almost stopped and his every muscle tensed when one of them did an especially risky trick or the boy caught the girl way too close to the floor for his liking. He’d never seen acrobats before, no one in the town had, with maybe the exception of the one girl from his childhood who could do a split and made sure to brag about it every chance she got. There was one word for her; _Annoying_.

Partway through, the ringmaster reentered with a lit torch in each hand, blending seamlessly into the graceful dance and the acrobats flying across stage. Snatching both torches from the ringmaster’s extended hands, Fantasy juggled them with ease, earning a gasp of awe from the spectators, even including George who had previously stayed relatively silent due to his exhaustion.

He then flicked one flaming torch upwards with a flick of his wrist and Nightmare, who was swinging on one leg from the trapeze, caught it easily and continued to act as if she didn’t have a fiery torch in her right hand.

However, as abruptly as the act started, it ended with Nightmare making one final flip and Fantasy running to catch her, both tossing their torches into nearby piles of hay in the process. The dry hay quickly lit up with flames and the audience panicked, shrieks and shouts of “fire!” coming from every direction. _This is where I die,_ George thought dramatically, shrinking backwards until he was pressed up against the railing marking the back of the final row of seating.

Everyone but the performers seemed terrified, yet barely anyone moved from their seats, if anything they leaned forwards in interest. The shrieks and shouts had died down after a couple minutes and the calmness in the face of such danger was somehow scarier to George who was still huddled as far back as possible.

Gloved hands suddenly wrapped around him and guided him away from the ledge, a dark figure with indiscernible features looking down on him in amusement at his pitiful reaction. The stranger didn’t introduce himself, but George assumed his job was to make sure no one got hurt during the show and was thankful for the help. Rubbing his forehead and groaning, he sat down, completely disoriented, and the other sat next to him, blatantly staring.

The two fires were still ablaze, but seemed contained and George was somewhat thankful as they helped him see who’d helped him back to his seat. A dark blue overcoat was lazily draped on the other’s shoulders and underneath was a, black he assumed, silk shirt tucked into a pair of slim slacks. There was something covering the man’s face, but he couldn’t see well because of the angle and his attention was soon drawn away to the pair of slender black gloves covering his hands.

“You seem interested, pup,” his voice was just a rough whisper and the stranger was so close to George that his warm breath tickled his neck, “But you’ll have to wait.”

“What—”

Awkwardly looking away without finishing his sentence and then glancing back, George wanted to get a good look at the other, hoping to be able to discern some features, but the stranger was no longer by his side. Scanning the crowd, the dark blue coat caught his eye again and he followed the mysterious stranger with his eyes, not daring to leave his seat.

When the man looked back at him for a second, his face, or really his mask, became visible in the faint glow of the string lights; a simple white circle shape with a crudely drawn face on it. _Well,_ George was stunned and watched the stranger retreat until he was lost in the crowd, _Only a miracle can tell me what that meant or what I’m supposed to do with it._

The ringmaster, in the center of the stage between the two fires, cut his thoughts off with a shout, “We’ve now gone back a couple more years to a time when the balance between reality and abstraction was very fragile,” the fires flared up behind him but the crowd was much calmer now, “Hallucination!”

Among the loud cheers, the next act, a lone man wearing a light colored wispy dress that flowed out behind him, walked out on stage to join the ringmaster. Hallucination was undoubtedly beautiful in an ethereal and deceivingly serene way, but George could practically sense the power and elegance in his step. Even with his sight obscured by a pale silk blindfold, he knew exactly where to go in an uncanny way that created a deeper settled feeling of uneasiness throughout the now silent tent.

The longer the show went on, the more involved and interested George felt himself becoming, but the feeling in his stomach was undeniable now. Nervously fidgeting with the hem of his plain shirt and occasionally shivering, it was like something deep inside of him was trying to tell him that something here was very very wrong. _I guess I found my fear,_ he thought sarcastically, trying to relax himself, _Powerful attractive men in dresses._

“Now the question,” Hallucination uttered evenly, surprising George who didn’t expect him to speak as neither Nightmare or Fantasy had, “Is it real?” he gestured to the fires on either side of him, “Or is it all in your head?”

In an instant, the fires were gone and two thin trails of smoke leading upwards was the only sign they ever existed in the first place. The audience gasped in awe at the trick and began to clap, but Hallucination was already moving on, walking with the ringmaster to a table that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

Throwing the blindfold to the side, he laid down on the tabletop, pulled a thin sheet out from somewhere, and draped it over himself. His complete stillness and the white sheet covering him made Hallucination vaguely resemble a corpse in the morgue and George’s stomach tightened. Closing his eyes, he tried to will the image out of his mind, but it only made him think about it more which caused him to gag slightly as bile rose in his throat.

For the second time that night, gloved hands wrapped around him, except now he somewhat knew who they belonged to, and placed a warm thick coat over him. They disappeared in a split second and George didn’t even bother turning back, knowing the stranger wouldn’t be there anymore and he’d just look crazier than he already did. Instead, he just shifted slightly to get comfortable, but was surprised when a small note fell into his lap.

_Meet me on the corner of Main Street and Cedar Lane at 9:30 if you’re interested._

Carefully placing the crumpled piece of paper into the pocket of the coat he’d been given, George made up his mind right then and there, “I’m going.”

Refocusing on Hallucination and the act currently happening in the center of the stage in front of him, he watched, newly enraptured, as the ringmaster placed a large box overtop of the other’s body, leaving his head exposed. Pulling a sword from his sleeve, he swung it with great strength, cutting the box in two.

The spectators screamed in shock, tightly gripping their neighbors’ arms and looking on at the horrible sight. George could only imagine what had happened to Hallucination who was under the box and, with a shriek, buried himself in the coat, bringing it up to cover his face and hoping to find comfort in the warmth it held.

“Is it real?” Hallucination repeated himself and George peeked out from under the coat to see him smiling at the audience, “Or is it all in your head?”

_This is terrifying in the worst way,_ he groaned, straightening his posture to make it look like he hadn’t just hid in his coat in fear, _I know it's all a trick or something, but I can’t just not be scared._ As Halluncination’s act continued, George found himself not looking out of fear, though the rest of the crowd seemed to enjoy the way the ringmaster was apparently chopping Hallucination to pieces.

Soon his attention was drawn upwards as someone made their way out on one of the metal beams supporting the tent, stopping when they were right above the center of the stage. When the ringmaster stepped back, the man leaped from the beam, somersaulted through the air, and landed with a loud bang on the table, making George jump in surprise even though he knew it was coming.

The new performer who wore a simple red, or at least George assumed it was red, shirt and skintight pants crushed the box on the table that Hallucination had hidden himself in seconds before. But, when he flipped off the table and threw the box to the side, there was no one there.

“Doubt, trickery, and the like were always some of the dream’s strongest tools,” the ringmaster continued his story, introducing both the man beside the table and the second man still on the beam above them, “Delusion and Illusion!”

In a flash, both men were on the ground and had pulled out long pieces of rope, though it was really braided fabric, which they wrapped around their hands and bodies. They created an intricate performance, dancing with the fabric as if it was another part of themselves, but what struck George the most was their perfect synchronization. On either side of the stage, dressed in black and what he could guess to be a dark red, Illusion and Delusion seemed to mimic each other’s action to the exact flick of a finger and shift of their eyes.

Their actions were practically too similar to be natural and too eerie for George to be comfortable, the unsettlement from Hallucination’s act returning slightly. _This is kinda weird. I’ve never been to a circus before, but I wouldn’t have thought they would be trying to make their audience unsettled,_ he eyed the people around him who were completely focused on the two, not seeming at all bothered or uncomfortable in any way, _Or it’s just me._

Illusion and Delusion’s act seemed to be over in a flash, but George knew it was just because of how distracted he was. His thoughts were constantly flicking from the performance to the warm jacket over his shoulders, the note in his pocket, or the heavy feeling in his stomach. Normally, he wasn’t like this, but after a long hard day at work, the exhaustion was catching up to him and so was the boredom of being stuck in this boring town. Going to the circus had been his idea of how to get out and around, but it wasn’t helping matters like he thought it would, if anything just making everything worse.

“We’re almost at the beginning everyone,” the ringmaster announced as he walked forwards to be closer to the audience, “There’s one last act we must all see before we reach the dream that started it all. Vision!”

_This is very different,_ George immediately noticed as a woman, presumably Vision, slowly walked out onto the stage without any theatrics whatsoever. Clutched in her hands was a dark orb with swirling wisps inside that were practically alive and she set it down gently on the table. Cracking her knuckles in preparation, Vision’s eyes turned a piercing blue and, when she touched the orb, it glowed the same color.

George was _this_ close to running out of the tent and going back to his apartment where he’d hide under his covers until morning and try to forget any of this ever happened. Every part of his body was telling him to run, to hide, so he’d be safe, but no one else in the crowd seemed at all scared. Though his fingers twitched, his right foot was nervously tapping the floor, and his eyes constantly flickered over to the exit, his dignity forced his body to stay still.

“Any volunteers?” Vision asked casually as if her eyes and the now levitating orb in her hands weren’t glowing a bright blue.

Immediately, hands shot up throughout the audience and his eyes bugged out in disbelief at everyone’s eagerness as he slowly made himself smaller and smaller, praying Vision wouldn’t pick him. She took her time, slowly glancing over the many hands waving wildly in the air to try to catch her attention, and it only served to make George more nervous. However, when Vision fixed him with her glowing blue eyes, his heart skipped a beat and then dropped deep into his stomach.

“The man in the far back,” she announced and, when other spectators turned to stare at him, he wished he simply wasn’t there, “Wearing a loose white shirt with dirty black trousers and a dark blue coat that was given to him earlier during the show is thrown over his shoulders.”

_How did she know that?_ George thought, remaining glued in his seat, _And no. This can’t be happening. Nope, no, absolutely not._

“Colorblind, too. He can only vividly see blues,” a smile stretched across her face when she saw George’s look of surprise morph into one of fear at her statement, “We need you to help us with our act. Come on now, we’re waiting.”

Standing up on shaky legs, he made his way down to the stage, well aware of all the eyes on him and the unknown fate that was waiting for him. Doing his best to mask his fear, George stopped right in front of Vision, practically frozen in place, his posture rigid. She simply stared at him as if slowly examining every aspect about him, though in the back of his mind, he knew it was just a mind game.

_Wait…_ he realized, much too late, considering he was already on stage and Vision was pacing around him in a circle, _She said “we need you” and “we’re waiting”. Who’s the “we”? Is there another person in her act?_ When the lights suddenly shut off and both fires relit, the faint eerie glow of flames was now the only thing lighting the tent and George fully accepted it; _I’m really going to die on the stage of a circus tent._

The orb caught his attention again when it glowed even brighter as Vision lifted it above her head, her eyes doing the same. A couple blue wisps seemed to have escaped from the center of the orb and were dancing excitedly across her arms or running down her cheeks like bright tears.

“Now,” Vision whispered, her voice easily heard throughout the silent tent, “Are we ready?”

Realizing that she was continuing with the story and that the mysterious _dream_ was next, George internally panicked while, on the outside, he just stopped all movement, barely even daring to blink or breathe. Embarrassment also grew within him when he glanced to the side and realized that everyone’s eyes were fixed on him and Vision.

“Please welcome…” she said, voice growing continually louder as the blue wisps glowed brighter to a white-ish color, “Dream!”

A loud bang of something heavy dropping; a cry of surprise from the startled crowd; a crackling from the fires when they burned even brighter before going out; a whoosh as Vision and the bright blue orb disappeared; a shriek from George when the entire tent was plunged into darkness.

It only took a second for George to feel a hand around his neck which made him cry out in surprise which caused everyone in the audience to also scream, spreading the feeling of panic. However, he immediately recognized the rough scrape of the glove as the hand dragged down his shoulder, though he was unsure if it made him feel calmer or more distressed.

_I thought he was nice, giving me his coat and all,_ he thought, unable to stop the feeling of betrayal that speared through his gut, _But he was just staking out his next victim._ Cut off when a white spotlight shone down on him, he winced and flinched pathetically, quickly blaming it on his anxious nerves.

The mysterious stranger from earlier, Dream, noticed and his touch turned soft, attempting to reassure him with a squeeze and guiding him into his warm chest. Before he could relax a little, the crowd let out a gasp and then a squeal, misinterpreting the action for something dangerous. Telling himself to not react turned out to be futile and George found himself questioning whether or not he was actually safe.

For better or worse, he was cut off when the sound of Dream drawing a dagger made him scream and struggle in the taller’s grip which was now firmly holding him in place. Begging that he wasn’t just going to be murdered on the spot, George closed his eyes tightly, wanting to block out everything around him, and waited for Dream to make the first move.

Suddenly, he felt Dream disappear from his side and his eyes flew open to see him just a couple feet in front of him, lazily twirling the dagger in his fingers. The mask was still over his face, not letting any of his features be shown, and the familiar black leather gloves left his fingers exposed. Even more terrifying was the way Dream was glancing him up and down, like he was a hunter examining his prey for any weaknesses, and it made George’s skin crawl.

Tugging his overcoat back into place from where a breeze had made it blow back, Dream was too late, already having exposed the multiple gleaming daggers of varying sizes that lined the inside. But something was off; the gust of wind was too convenient, the light reflected on the blades too brightly, and Dream didn’t seem at all worried by the reveal of his weapons.

Whirling around at a loud creak coming from the left corner of the stage, directly behind him, George’s heart dropped further into his stomach when he saw the large painted target. It became more visible when the string lights flickered back on above him, casting a warm light over the stage.

Finally, it all clicked in his head and he simply refused to believe it, _No. There’s no way I’m a volunteer for a knife-thrower’s act at the circus._ Looking back at Dream whose lips curved upwards slightly, George was completely unnerved, _He messes up once, doesn’t even have to be an inch, and I’m dead. How is this legal?_

Realizing soon after what exactly Dream’s act was, the audience let out a loud cheer and, though George didn’t know what he was expecting, it certainly wasn’t that. Thinking about it a bit more, he began to accept that it wasn’t a bad way to go, _A tent full of people watching me dramatically die because of a knife thrown wrong by a random stranger._

“Don’t worry,” Dream spoke to the crowd for the first time that night, his voice rough and hoarse like he hadn’t used it in a while, “I don’t miss.”

Another even louder uproar echoed around the tent and through George’s pounding head, seeming to bounce around his skull and making him feel both faint and dizzy. When blue wisps from the orb reappeared, he didn’t even blink in surprise, silently following them until he was at the target and then turning around so his back was up against the thick wood.

He expected to react to probable imminent death by feeling down with horridly slumped posture and empty thoughts, but instead, life was racing through his veins with every movement he made and his eyes were alight with a brightly burning newfound resilience. The thrill of the risk, the hunt, made George feel the most alive since he was just a small child with big dreams of moving out of this small town and going to the city.

Being so invigorated now made him more confident in his every move, spreading his arms like an eagle and staring Dream right in the eyes as he drew back a dagger. But, George’s newfound resolve didn’t completely take away all his fear and, when the blade skimmed by his left ear to bury itself in the target with a thud, he flinched.

Continuing to pull more daggers from his coat and swiftly launching them into the air, Dream roughly outlined the smaller’s shape on the board, the blades barely missing and sometimes even lightly scraping him. Each throw earned a loud cheer of both excitement and terror from the audience accompanied by a feeble gasp and wide eyes from George’s.

The act was simple and short, but the mystery behind the dangerous masked man combined with the raw precise talent made it the clear crowd favorite. Laughing in exhilaration along with the rest of the cheering audience when Dream took a bow, George reached up to push back the hair that had fallen in front of his eyes.

Running back onstage, the ringmaster thanked the spectators for their time and gestured towards the exit, but George didn’t hear him as Dream was guiding him off stage. But, instead of being back outside where everyone else was, he wound up backstage with the rest of the performers and a fussy Dream checking every inch of his skin to make sure he was okay.

Reassuring the “dangerous masked man” who was now fretting over him like a parent sending their child off to school that he was truly okay, George dipped his head in respect and thanks towards all of the acts before heading out. Though the sound of someone yelling after him registered in his mind, his lightheadedness blocked out the words and he kept walking without looking back.

However, still worried, Dream wasn’t going to let him go so easily and ran to catch up, grabbing his arm and pulling him into a hug which slowly started to bring him back to reality. Taking a second in the strong comforting arms of the much taller man, George felt better almost immediately and, if he was honest with himself, he didn’t want it to end.

“Let’s walk around a bit together, pup,” Dream suggested and then backtracked somewhat nervously when he realized what he said, “Sorry, it just slipped out.”

“No matter, I actually like it,” winking in his best attempt at flirting, George tried to cover up his confusion with a failed casual question, “Why do we have to walk around together though?”

Wrapping an arm around the smaller’s waist, Dream replied, “I can see that you’re still a bit out of it and I want to make sure you’re safe until you’re fully back,” his tone left no room for arguing, “I’ll walk you home.”

It only took a couple minutes in the cold and the silence for George to feel like himself again, the warm fuzziness blowing away and leaving him stark, cold, and exposed. Understanding why Dream wanted to stay with him when he started feeling a little down, somewhat like how he felt that one time he’d experienced a subspace drop, he leaned closer to Dream and was welcomed into a comforting hug.

Remaining silent as ever, Dream seemed more comfortable this way, simply walking side by side under the beautiful starry night sky. Though the taller was supporting most of his weight and was a step or so in front of him, George’s feet subconsciously guided both of them in the direction of his apartment.

“Wait,” he suddenly halted all movement and rubbed his eyes to clear any exhaustion, “I was supposed to be at the corner of Main and Cedar at 9:30,” when he checked his old watch, panic gripped him, “That’s in like five minutes!”

Letting out a strangely attractive laugh or really more of a wheeze, Dream ruffled his hair, “You don’t need to go there, I’m right here already.”

“Oh,” George mumbled dumbly, realizing too late that he was already face to face with the person he was supposed to meet.

It took him a second to restart walking towards home which caused Dream to wheeze again, but he still waited patiently for George to catch up. Walking in silence, _again_ , until they reached the door of his small apartment, he was swimming in muddled thoughts and nonsense that practically resembled a baby’s babbling. _Everything feels too right and warm and…_ his own thoughts made him blush a light red, _Almost domestic. I know he’s going to be gone with the circus tomorrow, but tonight I just want to— to say fuck it all._

“Dream,” he turned back to face the taller instead of blankly staring at the door and forced himself to gain confidence, finally voicing his thoughts, “Would you like to come in?”

While the question itself was innocent enough, George had tried to layer as much connotation as he could and Dream clearly understood, responding with a little smirk, “I’d like that very much.”

Soon George was stumbling over his feet and struggling to keep his body pressed close enough to Dream’s for him to be satisfied while he tried to fiddle with the lock to his apartment. It took a couple tries, but eventually the door opened and he almost fell backwards inside if it weren’t for the hands wrapped around his lower back.

“Hurry,” he mumbled, throwing his coat to the side and helping Dream do the same, “Bedroom’s the first door on the right.”

Wordlessly, the other hoisted him into his arms and carried him into his bedroom, making him feel safe despite knowing all of what Dream was capable of. His back hit the slightly uncomfortable mattress and he bounced upwards a little, hair flopping to the side and tongue lolling out of his mouth.

Dream groaned at how erotic he looked despite having done practically nothing and crawled forwards to hover over him. It was unfair to George, being unable to see anything more than the crude face drawn on to the simple white mask and having to grip the sheets because he wasn’t yet allowed to touch.

Stretching his fingers towards the mask, George asked, “Can you take it off, please? I really want to see you.”

“Okay, pup,” Dream responded with few words, making it even more obvious that he wasn’t much of a talker when it came to these things.

The mask was thrown to the side, clattering as it fell onto the floor, and he looked up to see ruffled hair that fell just past eye length, faint light freckles dotting blushed cheeks, and strong eyes which seemed to pierce right through him. _He’s so… perfect,_ George thought, gently brushing back some of the messy, sandy blonde locks.

Pink lips were now exposed and he arched upwards, trying to make it clear he wanted a kiss or at least some sort of relieving touch. Leaning down and joining their lips in a firm passionate kiss, Dream settled his hands on either side of the smaller’s waist, holding himself up as not to crush him. They pulled back for a second to catch their breath before George leaped forwards again, creating a much messier, passionate, and spit-soaked kiss.

“Messy,” Dream breathed when he paused to gulp in more air, licking his lips, “I like it.”

Biting back a whine, George tugged at the taller’s shirt, smiling happily when it was thrown off, and then flipped their positions so he was now straddling Dream. He bent down and licked at the exposed skin on Dream’s neck, biting gently and feeling very pleased when he heard a groan of pleasure. Normally, he wasn’t one for marks, but then again, he also wasn’t normally one for those who could kill him in an instant.

The fact of the matter was that he, now moving to suck a little lower on Dream’s chest, wanted to be remembered. _I want him to think of me when he sees the marks I left on him,_ George thought, hesitating before toying with the other’s right nipple, _I don’t care what he thinks of me as long as he does._

It seemed as if Dream didn’t quite like being the only one topless because he silently pulled George up from his chest and gently removed his shirt along with his trousers. Left in only boxers, the smaller shivered a little and was brought close into a warm hug with Dream’s lips now on his neck.

Much differently then he’d expected, Dream was very gentle, taking his time as he littered hickeys all over his bare skin and rubbing the small of his back to soothe him. His touch was soft when he took off George’s boxers, leaving him completely naked, and melted their lips together. It was a far cry from the masked, dagger-wielding man who’d almost made George faint out of fear on stage.

“Can I?” Dream rumbled, his hand cautiously resting on his lower stomach as he waited for the smaller’s answer.

“Yea,” George responded quickly, slightly out of breath from the kiss, and moved to unbutton the taller’s slacks before pausing, “Can I?”

Nodding, Dream stayed silent and reached to the other’s pants to slowly begin to pleasure him, but when George’s hand didn’t move, he huskily whispered, “Go ahead, pup.”

Spurred into action by the taller’s words of confirmation, he unbuttoned and unzipped the slacks before moving to the side and waiting a second for Dream to take them off. Tossing them onto the ground with the rest of their clothing, Dream pulled George onto his lap and licked his lips open, returning to palm the smaller’s growing bulge. Opening on request, he let his mouth be explored, sometimes playfully pushing back a bit which prompted the other to surge forwards with renewed energy.

By the way Dream acted, George could guess that he was new at this which was fine as he was too, _First time with a guy and it's probably his too. He might not even know if he likes guys._ George did have an inkling of an idea that he liked guys, but in a small town like his, it wasn’t something he felt comfortable sharing. All the women he’d been with were nice, so nothing really pushed him too hard to pursue another guy until Dream dropped that note in his lap, not so subtly hinting at what could happen between them.

Pulling the taller’s hand up and weaving it together with his own, George ground down with his hips, gasping when the stimulation sent a spark of pleasure up his spine. In a split second, Dream’s hands moved to rest on his hips and began guiding him down again, controlling the pace and changing it from slow to fast.

Both of them began slowly falling apart; some of George’s hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and Dream’s hips hastily rolling upwards to meet his. Though his hand was getting slick and uncomfortable from being so tightly clasped in the taller’s, he refused to let go and also wove his free hand into the blonde hair.

Forcefully stilling his hips, Dream pressed a quick kiss to the corner of his lips and then pulled back, “Can you take everything off for me, pup?”

Though he was very shy at the idea of being exposed in front of Dream, when he saw that the other was also ridding himself of his remaining clothes, George did the same. Picking up on his shyness when he refused to look up and instead absently stared at the sheets, the taller brought him into a hug, pecking light kisses all over his face and then chest.

It felt so good, a feeling of safety and comfort wrapping around him like a warm blanket, and all of his previous fear of Dream washed away without leaving a trace. _He’s nothing like his whole act with the dramatic noises, dark lighting, sharp knives, and crudely drawn mask,_ George thought, turning his head to the side to catch the other’s lips on his own, _It was all exactly what a circus performance is; an act._

Deciding to take things into his own hands and push forwards a little, George pressed himself closer, earning a groan when they brushed against each other in a pleasurable way. Reaching down, one of his hands wrapped around Dream to slowly please him, ignoring his own need as he was so caught up in satisfying the taller.

Thankfully, Dream noticed his burning desire and engulfed both of them in his big rough hand, moving up and down at a steady pace. Biting back a soft moan at the feeling, George pressed their foreheads together and closed his eyes, panting quietly. But, the way he was muffling his moans clearly displeased Dream who used his tongue to tenderly prod open his mouth, swallowing every one of his soft sounds.

A sudden gust of wind came in from the window, causing the thin sheet-like curtains to sweep into the room and the moonlight to dimly illuminate everything around them. The way the pale light gleamed on Dream’s skin and their shadows joined together to dance across the blank sheets was breathtaking; the entire scene perfectly picturesque.

Feeling the temperature in the room slowly begin to rise, George unclasped their hands and broke the kiss to wipe his forehead and throw his head back. Though he didn’t like the distance between him and Dream, it was undeniably cooler and he basked in the refreshing breeze combined with the ever constant pleasure.

Quickening the pace, Dream brought him back into another firm kiss that soon turned messy and the smaller couldn’t stop a soft moan from leaving his parted lips. George’s airy moans now spilled out uncontrollably, but as Dream stayed silent despite the occasional groan, embarrassment colored his cheeks pink and he tried to force them down again.

Noticing the new tinge of color, the taller was quick to reassure him with a low whisper, “It’s okay, pup. You can let go.”

“It’s embarrassing,” George mumbled back, shaking his head, and bit into his hand to prevent the noises from leaving, “I’m so loud and you’re not—”

“Your moans are hot; you’re hot. It shouldn’t be something embarrassing, George, and it really doesn’t matter if I’m quieter than you.”

Nodding in understanding, George tried to diffuse the slightly awkwardness caused by the short conversation by rolling his hips downwards and Dream took that as a request to go faster. As they continued, he began to feel overwhelmed, making louder lewder noises as he quickly approached the edge, and so did Dream, his low groans becoming more frequent.

For a second, George teetered on the edge; his vision filling with a bright blinding white light, his limbs and muscles trembling and clenching erratically, his lips stilling against the taller’s. Everything around him seemed to slowly fade away and disappear until all he could feel was Dream’s warm touch and gentle lips.

Then George fell and every building sensation flooded over him at the same time, practically drowning him and causing him to writhe in pleasure as breathless pants and moans filled the room. Dream caught him easily, carrying him through every spike of pleasure with the gentlest touch and making sure he felt the best possible.

With only a couple more erratic movements that made the smaller squirm in overstimulation, Dream also released, letting George cradle him in shaky arms and guide him through it. Judging from the glazed look in his eyes and the low moan that’d turned into somewhat of a whine, he could only guess that Dream had enjoyed it just as much as he had which made him feel strangely satisfied.

Laughing deliriously as he tried to come back to himself for the second time that night, George could barely believe what had just happened, “This feels unreal,” he laughed softly and Dream wheezed along with him, “Almost like a fever dream.”

“Yea,” Dream wheezed out, lifting the smaller into his arms and bringing them both into the small dark bathroom.

Flicking the lights on and wetting a small cloth, George quickly wiped himself down, deciding he’d properly shower tomorrow morning, and Dream seemed to be doing the same thing. Standing up and feeling pleased when he found he could already walk without the taller’s support, he walked back into the bedroom to grab both him and Dream some nightwear from his small closet.

The baggy pants fit fine, but despite being the biggest one he had, his shirt looked absolutely ridiculous on Dream’s larger and broader frame, though he wore it well with a little goofy smile. Tossing the shirt off because of how uncomfortable it was, Dream pulled George down onto the bed next to him and cuddled him gently.

Succumbing quickly to his exhausted mind and body, George could hear Dream saying something as he fell asleep, but couldn’t discern what exactly, let alone scramble together an intelligible response. _Whatever it is,_ he thought right before his mind blacked out, _I just hope he’s still here tomorrow._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and I'd also love to hear what you thought about it! Whether the circus was magic or just parlour tricks and what happens the next morning is up to you to imagine
> 
> Again, this is only about their personas and please keep this within the fandom


End file.
